Sara
by Belle Walker
Summary: Prequel to 'Katie'. The full story of how Sara and Grissom became Katie's 'parents'. WIP.
1. Chapter 1

They regarded each other silently, each one sizing up the other.

Sara looked into the wide green eyes fixed firmly on her. She took in the wonder and the fear she saw there...and the small hint of stubborn Sidle defiance that Sara hadn't prepared herself for.

She was starting to wish that Jimmy had agreed to take her instead. It was easier for her brother to connect with the child — _he_ actually _liked_ kids.

_This is a mistake. What was I thinking?_ she asked herself.

But she hadn't thought. She hadn't planned. She wasn't prepared at all — everything had just happened so quickly.

* * *

_(FLASHBACK—three hours ago)_

She could hear the bickering echo down the hospital corridor, and she wondered why the nurses on that floor didn't try to quiet them down. The noise only got louder as she approached, and Sara was surprised that only two voices could make such a racket.

She stood in the doorway, unnoticed, catching the tail end of the noisy conversation.

"What about the kid?"

"What about her?" Sara's uncle replied in a dismissive tone.

"Well, I can't take care of you _and_ her," Sara's aunt whined helplessly. "I just don't have the strength for it anymore!"

"Well pardon me for having a heart attack!" Don snapped back defensively. "I didn't realize I was such a _burden_ to you!"

"_She's_ the burden," Val corrected him. "_You're_ my _husband_."

Sara rolled her eyes at their bickering, wondering why she even bothered to keep coming. This was her fourth visit in a week and a half, and those two were just as bristly as ever.

She looked across the room at her older brother's back, envious of the way he could just block them out when he wanted to.

He stood at the window right now with their cousin's small child in his arms, keeping her attention on the trees outside and not on the hateful atmosphere in that hospital room.

Sara crossed the room, coming to stand by her brother's side, drawing comfort from the presence of the one constant ally she'd had in her life.

"How long have they been at each other's throats this time?" she asked quietly.

Jimmy shifted the child to a more comfortable position, letting her stand up on the metal heater running underneath the window. "Couple of hours," he answered dryly.

"How long have you been here?" Sara wanted to know.

Jimmy gave her a half-grin. "Couple of hours," he repeated.

"Martyr," she accused her brother lightly.

He chuckled. "Nah, I'm only here for Katie." He looked down at the child he protected. "Huh, Katie-kat? Hey, can you say 'hi' to Aunt Sara?"

But Katie just looked over at her solemnly before popping a thumb into her mouth.

Sara smiled and smoothed the girl's dark hair, and that was the extent of their interaction.

"Listen, I'm glad you're here," Jimmy began seriously. "I need to tell you something."

The note of stiffness in his voice alarmed her. "What's wrong?"

But Jimmy only said, "We can't talk in here. Come on."

He set Katie on her feet on the floor, intending to leave her in the room, but then thought better of it after glancing at his aunt and uncle.

He took the child by the hand, stepping with a pace that was easy for her to keep up with.

Sara followed them both out of the room. "Jimmy, what's wrong?" she asked again.

Her brother inhaled a long breath as they strode slowly through the hallway. "I'm leaving."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Leaving? As in leaving town?"

"As in leaving California." Jimmy gave a sideways glance at Sara, gauging her reaction as he revealed a little proudly, "You're looking at Cheyenne's newest firefighter."

"Jimmy, that's great!" Sara responded. "But Wyoming?" She was unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "That's so far away! Doesn't San Francisco need you instead?"

He shrugged. "It might. But I like Cheyenne better. It agrees with me more than this city ever did."

"Have you told Mom you're leaving?"

"Not yet. Figured I'd wait until the last possible minute."

"Which is?"

"Next Wednesday. I start work the following Monday."

Sara was silent, crestfallen. She didn't want him to leave — she'd just assumed he'd always be around.

Jimmy looked at the lost expression on his little sister's face.

Sara was twenty-two years old, mature beyond her years and far too independent for her own good, yet she still considered her big brother to be her best friend.

He slung an arm around her shoulders with exaggerated force. "Oh, stop sulking, Sara Jane; it's not the end of the world," he teased.

"I'm not sulking," Sara denied, wrinkling her nose at his use of her middle name. "I'm proud of you. Really."

Jimmy was pleased to hear her approval. He gave her shoulders one final brotherly squeeze before letting go. "There is one more thing…"

"Uh oh," Sara braced herself.

"I was hoping you would look after Katie for me."

Somehow she knew that was coming. Katie wasn't even Jimmy's responsibility — he'd voluntarily stepped into the role of pseudo-guardian after the suicide of Katie's mother, their cousin Darlene.

Even though Katie resided with her grandparents, Jimmy was still drawn to the child…compassion and empathy being the two biggest forces in his attention toward her.

Now he wanted to make sure she'd continue to be cared for in his absence, since he and Sara both knew their aunt and uncle — Katie's maternal grandparents — didn't really want her. Especially now, with Aunt Val having to care for her ailing husband.

"I guess I could check on her every day or so," Sara allowed. That wouldn't take much…just a brief visit after work or something.

"Actually, I meant…take her home with you."

"What?"

"I know, it's a lot to ask," he said quickly. "You just barely got settled in your new job and everything, and the timing really sucks…"

"It's not that." She looked at the two-year-old child plodding along silently on the other side of her brother. "It's just…I am _not_ good with kids. I never have been. Why don't _you_ take her? She likes you."

Jimmy stopped walking and turned to face his sister. "Sara…believe me, if I could take her with me, I would. God knows Don and Val wouldn't care. But I can't take care of her by myself _and_ be a firefighter. Who would raise her?"

He was right, Sara had to admit silently.

"Anyway," he added, resuming his stroll. "It wouldn't be permanent…just month or two. Until Uncle Don's recovered from his heart attack. If I stay here to take her, even for a month…I'll lose that job in Cheyenne. And another one might not come along anytime soon."

Sara clenched her jaw. Maybe it wouldn't kill her to at least try. At length, she said quietly, "Alright."

A smile of relief and gratitude flashed across Jimmy's face. He addressed the little girl at his side. "How about it, Katie-kat? Want to live with Aunt Sara for a while?"

Whether she understood the question or not, Katie looked up at Sara with the same solemn, wide-eyed expression she always wore.

Sara gave the child a timid smile, then moved closer and knelt down to the girl's level. "Would you like to go home with me?" she asked softly.

Katie only tightened her grip on her uncle's hand and leaned into his side, moving slightly away from Sara.

But Sara was patient with her. She offered her hand to the child, waited, and was surprised when it was actually taken hold of.

Jimmy grinned down at them. "See? She won't bite."

"Me, or her?" Sara quipped.

"Either of you."

Sara took a deep breath and stood, keeping her hand in contact with the smaller one.

Katie's grip on her hand was loose; obligatory. Sara ventured that the kid's grip on Jimmy's hand rivaled steel.

"Alright," Sara sighed resignedly. "Let's go tell the terrible twosome that I'm taking Katie home."

_(END FLASHBACK)_

* * *

They still stared at each other across the short living room of Sara's small apartment.

Something wasn't right with this little girl. Katie Sidle hadn't made so much as a peep on the ride from the hospital to Sara's apartment.

When Sara carried her inside and set her tiny feet on the floor, Katie had silently climbed up onto the couch and just sat there looking at her.

Weren't two-year-olds supposed to be noisy? Speaking at least some words, even just chattering nonsense to themselves? Viewing the world as their own personal toy box?

This child resembled a living doll — breathing, but sedate.

Sara was tense enough with 'normal' children; this one's silence was downright unnerving.

Katie yawned, and the spell was broken.

Sara felt foolish for being intimidated. She was just a little girl, ignored and neglected. Of course she was quiet, if nobody ever paid attention to her.

Well, she wouldn't be ignored or neglected in Sara's house. She was glad this was only Saturday. She'd have all of Sunday to get Katie settled before going back to work Monday.

Oh, crap…Monday! She couldn't take Katie to work with her — not to a coroner's office!

She racked her brain. Babysitter? Daycare?

Yes, daycare might work. Her aunt and uncle should pay for it themselves, though, since Katie technically belonged to them.

Sara would work it out with them later. Right now the child in question was falling asleep on her couch.

But she had nowhere for Katie to sleep. She could roll off the couch, the floor wasn't suitable either, and she might not submit to sharing Sara's bed. For a brief second, she considered making a bed out of the bath tub.

No, that was silly. She could just share the bed with Sara. It was big enough — queen-sized.

Sara changed into her pajamas while Katie still snoozed on the couch. Then she gently lifted the child in her arms, laid her on turned-down sheets with her head on a pillow, and pulled her shoes off before covering her up.

She sure was a cute little thing; pixie nose, dark brown curls covering her head, thick eyelashes closed over startling green eyes.

If only Sara could draw her out of her shell. Well, maybe she'd try to start on that tomorrow.

She turned off the light and laid down on the other side of the bed, willing the sleep to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Sara woke on Sunday morning feeling like a boulder was lodged against her spine. Funny, she didn't remember letting her boyfriend in last night.

It couldn't have been him anyway, because the boulder wasn't snoring.

She squinted in the early-morning sunlight peeking through the bedroom window, and craned her neck to see what was keeping her perilously close to falling off the edge of her bed.

Oh, yeah. That.

Little bare feet at one end, mop of curls at the other, and a diaper-padded rump slightly in the air in the middle.

She reached a finger behind her and tickled one bare foot.

The foot gave an involuntary but forceful jerk away.

"Ah!" Sara rubbed her calf where the child had kicked it. "Little mule," she mumbled under her breath. She'd never experienced the kick of a real mule, but she would bet there wasn't much difference between the two.

She slunk off the edge of the mattress and hobbled to the bathroom to answer nature's call. She washed her face and brushed her teeth, then went back to the bedroom to see if the kid was awake yet.

She kept far away from the feet, going to the other side of the bed to better see Katie's face.

The child's eyes were still closed, but whether she was really still asleep or just faking it, Sara wasn't sure.

Well…either way, it wouldn't hurt to leave her there. She'd get up when she was ready, and Sara's apartment was too tiny for her to get lost in.

Katie would need to have a diaper change soon, though. Sara hoped there were plenty in that diaper bag that Katie had come with. If not…she'd have to go shopping very soon.

Sara finally changed out of her pajamas and brushed her long hair up into a ponytail and out of her way. Poking her feet back into her slippers, she quietly left the bedroom.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, she poked through the diaper bag to see what there was. She found several diapers (thank god), a snack bag of Cheerios, half a bottle of old orange juice, and a handful of little toys.

She dumped the juice down the sink drain and rinsed the bottle in scalding hot water. The toys were questionable to anyone with common sense; three of them looked small enough to swallow and choke on.

Sara threw away all but the biggest toy — a cute little cloth horse.

The bag of Cheerios prompted a new dilemma: what on earth was Sara supposed to feed to a two-year-old? Baby food? Kid food?

All Sara had was adult food, and none of it breakfast-worthy. Leftover take-out noodles, some cold fried chicken, and a variety platter of cheesecake slices. The cupboard wasn't much help, either. She was out of peanut butter, and she'd quit buying cereal long ago.

She chewed on a fingernail, thinking.

There was bread. Toast?

French toast! Sara grinned to herself at the idea. She hadn't made French toast in forever.

She grabbed the few necessary ingredients and whipped up a small batch. She set the stack on a plate on the table, then inverted a clean bowl over the stack to keep them warm.

She grabbed a clean diaper from the bag, gently rousted Katie from the bedroom, and led her to the bathroom to take care of business.

Katie seemed to have held her bladder pretty good through the night, and appeared to be accustomed to sitting on an adult-sized toilet. Maybe the diapers were for just-in-case.

Sara gave her a new one, awkwardly figuring out how to put it on her and get it fastened. Then the toilet was flushed, little pants were pulled back on, and hands were washed thoroughly.

"Do you want some breakfast?" Sara asked, hoping to get a verbal response.

But Katie was silent at her side in their walk to the kitchen.

Sara pulled out one chair and set Katie in it. But she needed a booster seat to see over the table, and Sara didn't own one.

"Okay, that's not gonna work," Sara said out loud. "Hold on a sec."

She left Katie in the chair while she poured two small glasses of milk and grabbed two forks with which to eat the French toast that was probably cold by now.

Sara set the milk and forks on the table, then lifted Katie again and sat down in the chair herself, with the child in her lap. "Much better, huh?"

She pulled the breakfast dish closer and removed the inverted bowl. No reason why they couldn't share the one plate. With her fork, Sara cut the toast into manageable bites.

"Want a fork?" she offered to Katie, wanting to see if the girl knew how to use one.

Katie took the fork, stabbed a piece of toast, and poked it into her mouth.

Sara shrugged in acceptance and took a bite herself. The breakfast had cooled off considerably, but it was still good.

"How about some milk?" Sara voiced again, reaching for one of the glasses.

Katie dropped her fork on the plate with a _clank!_ and reached for the glass. Two little hands gripped both sides as Katie drank with a surprising level of coordination. Not a drop of milk was dribbled or spilled from that glass.

"Good girl," Sara praised as Katie set the empty glass on the table.

Katie ate a few more bites of French toast — ignoring the fork now and just using her fingers — and then she was done.

Sara finished it off and drank her own milk.

Katie wiggled on her lap, indicating she wanted down, so Sara let her slide off and stood to put the dirty dishes in the sink.

Sara watched Katie go silently back into the livingroom, thinking that the child should have her teeth brushed. But Sara didn't have a spare toothbrush for her and she didn't see any in the diaper bag either.

She sighed. She was going to have to go shopping after all. First, though, she wanted to read the newspaper.

She opened her apartment door and stepped out to collect her morning newspaper from the hallway. One slippered foot connected with something solid and she stumbled in the doorway. "What the — ?"

Somebody had left a suitcase in front of her door. It must be stuff for Katie, she figured, dumped unceremoniously on her doorstep by her aunt.

Sara grabbed the newspaper in one hand, and the suitcase in the other.

She dropped the suitcase onto the floor in front of the couch and opened it. Sure enough, there was an ample supply of child's clothing and more diapers, plus a few jars of baby food and other miscellaneous supplies.

Sara picked up a jar of processed food, peering past the label marked with 'strained peas'. It looked a bit like green applesauce, to her.

But the stranger thing was that it was _baby_ food. Katie was a toddler with teeth; why would she still need to eat soft, strained, mushed-up foods?

The simple answer was that she didn't. A more complicated answer was the idea that Katie's supposed guardians were being lazy and neglectful with the little girl's nutrition and growth stages.

Sara frowned to herself, setting the baby food aside. Aha, a child's toothbrush. And toothpaste to go with it. Good.

She pulled a few pieces of clothing from the suitcase, intending to dress Katie in something clean for the day.

A small hand also reached into the suitcase, coming back out with a plush octopus gripped in little fingers.

It was a bit ironic…Katie had nice clothes and cute toys and her own toothbrush and paste, but an improper food supply and no indications that she could speak.

Was she mute? She wasn't deaf — Sara could see herself that Katie was aware of sounds and noises and understood what several words meant.

She was probably starved of social interaction. Sara honestly could not recall witnessing a single time when Katie's guardians had given her any kind of real attention. Probably anything she'd gotten up to this point had been from Jimmy.

Sara looked speculatively at the child on the floor playing silently with her toy octopus. Maybe regular daycare wasn't what she needed. Maybe a special-needs place would be better, where she'd get more one-on-one attention.

Sara's boyfriend Blake had an older sister she knew who ran a special-needs daycare, something with 'jungle' in the name. Sara grabbed the phone book and looked up 'Jungle' in the white pages.

There it was—Jungle Jo's Special Needs Daycare. Jo ran the business out of her home, and even if she wasn't open for daycare on a Sunday, she'd probably still answer the business phone if it rang.

Sara punched the number into her cordless phone.

"Jungle Jo's Daycare, Jo speaking."

"Hi, Jo. It's Sara Sidle."

"Sara!" Jo's voice was friendly through the phone. "It's been so long! How are you?"

"I'm good. I'm in a little bit of a pinch, though," Sara answered, getting straight to business.

"Oh, no. What's wrong?"

"Well, I've got my niece staying with me for a while, but I don't know what to do with her while I'm at work all day, except to put her in daycare."

"Does she have any special needs?" Jo wanted to know.

"I'm not really sure. She's about two years old, and the quietest kid I've ever seen."

Jo laughed in surprise. "A quiet two-year-old? You speak of miracles, Sara!"

Sara chuckled too. "So, can you squeeze her in? I'll pay whatever you think is fair." She figured her aunt could reimburse whatever she paid out.

"Yeah, I can squeeze her in," Jo assured. "We'll figure price later. Right now I think I'd like to catch up a little. Are you still dating that ass of a jerk named Blake?"

Sara laughed in shock at her choice of words. "You mean your brother? Yes, I'm still dating him."

"Ugh, my condolences. You really can do better, Sara." Then she changed the subject to one more neutral.

Sara stretched out on the couch with the phone to her ear, enjoying the leisurely conversation. After a while, she realized Katie was no longer in the room. The plush octopus was abandoned by the recliner.

Just as she swung her feet to the floor to get up and look for the child, Sara heard a terrific crash from the direction of the kitchen.

"Crap," she grumbled into the phone. "I have to call you back."

Bidding an abrupt good-bye to Jo, she hung up the phone and darted to the kitchen doorway, looking for the source of the crash.

An upper cupboard door was open, and on the countertop directly below it was a smattering of granulated sugar.

Sara stepped further into the kitchen, and her jaw nearly dropped.

A sea of sugar and shards of glass covered the floor between the sink and the table. There was no kid in sight.

"Katie?" she called in a stern voice. She knew the sugar didn't jump out of the cupboard on its own.

She heard a noise under the table and bent down to see. "Hey."

"No!"

So, she could speak after all.

"Come on out, it's alright," she coaxed.

"No!" Katie repeated, kicking one foot at Sara before scrunching herself as far against the wall as she could get.

"Hey, nobody's going to hurt you." Sara reached a hand toward the child, wanting to get her out from under the table before she got cut on the broken glass strewn about.

But the child screamed in terror at the hand reaching for her, scrambled up from her corner of safety, and blazed out of the kitchen.

Sara looked in the direction Katie had ran, then back at the mess of glass and sugar on the floor.

Why had the child reacted in such fear? Sara hadn't intended to spank her or anything; it was an accident, and accidents happen.

It was a waste of a good canister and a pound of sugar, but the loss wasn't a big deal. Certainly not something to scare a child over.

As she used a broom and dust pan to clean up the mess, Sara wondered how Katie had known where the sugar jar was, and how she'd even reached the upper cupboard in the first place.

She sighed to herself. Somehow she would have to child-proof her apartment for the duration of Katie's stay.

Sara dumped the last sweeping of sugar into the trash can, then ran a damp mop over the floor to remove any leftover stickiness.

Then she went in search of the little sugar-bandit.

With a chuckle, she thought to herself that her forensics training might have come in handy just now if the evidence hadn't been so plainly in sight.

A trail of sugar granules led her to the bedroom and straight into the closet.

She knelt in front of it, easing the bi-fold doors open slowly. There stood Katie, right in the middle, with her back pressed against Sara's clothes.

Her green eyes were bright with tears, and grains of sugar still clung to her hair and her shirt.

Sara knew better than to reach for her this time. She only gave the child a smile to show that she wasn't angry.

"It's okay," she said softly, looking Katie directly in the eye.

"B'oke," Katie said in a stubborn little voice, pressing deeper into the clothes hanging behind her.

"Yes, it broke," Sara answered calmly. "But Aunt Sara is not mad."

Katie didn't seem to believe her, because she remained hunched against the clothes, apparently still waiting for whatever she thought was going to happen to her.

Sara frowned internally. Even at just two years of age, Katie should have been able to see that there was no punishment coming if it hadn't happened by now.

Well, she wasn't going to force the child out of the closet; that wouldn't accomplish anything good for the girl's state of mind.

Sara offered one more smile and a gentle "Come on out."

Finally, Katie's fear seemed to be fading. "No pank?" she inquired, losing her tense posture.

"No spank," Sara confirmed. "Although I'd say a bath is definitely in your future."

Katie took one cautious step forward. Then another. One more brought her out of the closet to stand right beside Sara's kneeling form.

She had a wholly repentant look on her little pixie face now. "So'wy," she offered solemnly.

This time Sara's smile was real. Katie was actually _talking_ to her!

The child had broken more than just a canister; she'd broken her _silence_.

Encouraged by this new development, Sara got to her feet and put her hand out for the little girl to take.

Five small sticky fingers took hold of hers.

"Come on," Sara said, a lightness filling her voice. "Let's go get a bath."


	3. Chapter 3

Sara poured a daub of scented bubble bath liquid into the warm water filling the tub.

Katie leaned on the edge of the tub, watching in fascination at the bubbles expanding in the water. "Dat?" she asked, pointing at one foamy peak.

Sara grinned. "Those are bubbles."

Katie poked a finger into the nearest cluster of bubbles. She grabbed a handful of foam, looked at it in wonder, and abruptly smashed it between both hands.

Sara couldn't help but laugh at the look of consternation on the child's face as a fluff of stray bubbles flew at her.

She checked the temperature and level of the water and turned off the faucet. "Alright, into the tub."

Katie apparently already knew the routine for when a bath tub was full of water. She pulled at the front of her shirt but couldn't get it off by herself.

Sara helped her out of the clothes and the diaper, then lifted her over the tub's edge and into the water.

Katie settled easily into the bubbles, slapping at a few mounds. Sara gave her a small paper cup to play with in the water as she gently cleaned her up.

Sara squeezed a tiny amount of shampoo into her hand and worked it through the child's mop of curly hair.

She'd forgotten to get a pan to rinse the hair with. But she couldn't leave the kid in the tub unattended while she ran to the kitchen — that was how drownings sometimes occurred.

She removed the trash bag from the bathroom's little one-gallon trash can and used the plastic can as a bucket. It was clean; she always used a liner to hold the trash.

Sara filled it with new warm water from the tub faucet. "Close your eyes," she warned Katie.

Katie saw the bucket of water coming and squeezed her eyes shut. Water poured over her head, rinsing the shampoo into the bubble bath.

Sara wiped some suds off the child's face with a clean damp rag, then filled the bucket again. "One more."

She rinsed the rest of the shampoo away, and decided to use conditioner on the girl's hair too, to soften up the tangles. She squirted conditioner into her hand and held it under her own nose to inhale the pretty scent. "Yummy," she told Katie.

She let Katie smell the conditioner too before it was applied to her hair. Two more rinses from the trash can bucket, and the bath was over.

Sara drained the water and wrapped Katie in a fluffy towel to lift her out of the tub. She set the girl's bare feet on the sink's countertop, facing the mirror.

"Look at that hair," she teased, touching the lump of wet curls on Katie's head.

The towel stayed wrapped around the child, and Sara used a second one to blot and squeeze most of the water out of Katie's hair. She carefully combed out the dark mass, and gently scrunched the curls back into their natural form to air-dry.

She was getting the hang of this child-care thing. It also helped that Katie was letting her. Aside from that encounter with the sugar jar, she'd been a good girl all day.

Sara dressed the girl in another new diaper and a cute little shirt and pants set from the suitcase.

Then she propped Katie on her hip and strode into the kitchen for a bit of impromptu learning. If the child was going to explore her surroundings, Sara might as well direct it and keep some control over it if possible.

She started with the first upper cupboard. She opened the cupboard door so Katie could see what was behind it. Sara figured that if she showed Katie what was up there, she wouldn't try to investigate on her own and cause another disaster.

"We've got bowls, and plates, and cups," she began slowly, pointing at each item as she gave its name. She closed that cupboard and opened the next one. "Cans of food." She skipped over the empty space where the sugar jar used to sit. "Crackers…salt…"

She closed the cupboard, then pointed at all of them and tried to use simple sentences the child would understand without resorting to baby-talk which Sara hated. "You do _not_ open these. Only Aunt Sara opens these. Okay?"

Katie nodded like she understood. Sara hoped she really did.

She opened a drawer and pulled out a shiny utensil. "This is a knife. Only Aunt Sara can touch the knife. It's sharp. It makes 'owies'." Then she tested the child. "Can Katie touch the knife?"

Katie looked at the sharp blade, at the pattern of teeth and the pointy end, and shook her head to say 'no'.

"Very good," Sara praised with a smile. She put the knife back and picked up a spoon. "What is this?"

Katie looked at it for a moment, and quietly answered, "Poon."

"That's right. Spoons are good. Katie can touch the spoon." And Sara let the girl take hold of the spoon. A fork joined the spoon briefly, then Sara put both back into the drawer.

They moved on to the refrigerator. Sara didn't think Katie could pull the heavy door open by herself — even if she could manage to reach the handle — but she might as well be thorough.

She opened the freezer section at the top, and then the fridge part below.

Katie reached a hand toward a carton in the door. "Duce."

"Yes, that is juice," Sara answered. "Do you want juice?"

"Duce."

Sara grinned to herself at the sound of Katie's little voice. When the first 'No!' had popped out of her mouth during the sugar incident, somehow it had left the door open for other occasional words to come out.

Katie wasn't talking up a storm by any means, but at least she was starting to vocalize a few things now.

Sara took a small cup from the upper cupboard and poured a little bit of juice for Katie.

Katie gulped it down.

"Say 'thank you'," Sara prompted, taking the empty glass.

Her only answer was silence.

"I guess we'll work on that," Sara said out loud. Now, what else was there to do that would keep Katie occupied and out of trouble?

"How about a nap?" Sara suggested hopefully. She received no protest.

She carried Katie into the bedroom and set her down. She straightened the bed covers, then lifted Katie onto them.

Sara reclined herself atop the bedspread on one-half of the bed, and patted the pillow next to her to invite the little girl to lay down. "Come on."

Her invitation was accepted, and Katie silently stretched her little legs out alongside Sara's.

Sara smiled to herself and closed her eyes, laying very still and only pretending to sleep.

With any luck, Katie would fall asleep for real and stay there for a while so Sara could get a few things done without any worry.

Neither of them made sound or movement for several minutes. Finally, Sara opened her eyes to see if Katie was actually sleeping.

Satisfied that she was, Sara inched her way off the bed and tiptoed across the floor.

The floor squeaked and she cringed, looking to see if the noise had woken the child.

But Katie remained asleep, and Sara relaxed. She stepped around the squeaky spot to lay a light afghan over the sleeping child, then she collected her laptop computer and internet modem and slipped out of the room.

She set up her equipment on the kitchen table, and opened an internet browser to search for upcoming forensics seminars in the city.

Oh, there was one coming up in a month-and-a-half: a two-day seminar about the effects of fire on crime scenes, hosted by a 'Dr. Gil Grissom'.

She'd heard of him; he specialized in worms or bugs or something gross like that.

Sara made a note of the seminar dates. If she played her cards right, she might be able to get both days off work for that. Call it 'Continuing Education' or whatever.

She moved on to the next listing, writing down the ones she wanted to attend.

A message window popped up on her screen. _Hey, beautiful._

There was Blake, flirty as usual.

Sara typed back, _Talking to your mirror again? ;)_

He replied with: _No, that usually starts with 'Hey handsome'._

She grinned. She liked his sense of humor. He never got offended by her little pokes at his vanity.

_Busy Tuesday night?_ He asked.

Her fingers danced on the keys. _No, why?_

_You are now. Chez Andre's, 9:00._

Sara's feelings were torn. On the one hand, she appreciated the romantic aspect of dinner in a fancy restaurant. On the other hand, she was annoyed that he'd just assumed she'd be free that night on such short notice.

Besides, she hated stuffy restaurants with their stuffy patrons and stuffy waiters and overpriced menus. Sara much preferred take-out…on speed dial.

Well, too bad if his reservation was for only two; he'd have to either change it to a table for three or dine alone.

She sent him a quick reply, briefly explaining that she had a little tag-along for the time being. She wondered how he'd take that, considering he liked children even less than Sara did.

Blake's response popped up: _That's okay. Bring her along._

So much for getting out of the date that way. Sara was stuck.

And now she'd have to find an appropriate dress for Katie to wear to the stupid restaurant.

_Alright_, she typed back. _But you're paying for it._

She felt something pull on the back of her chair, and looked around herself in surprise. Then something poked her in the back between the middle rungs of the chair.

Sara turned around in her seat, abruptly coming face-to-face with a certain little girl.

Katie was climbing up the back of the chair, and her bare toes were what poked Sara in the back. Ah, that was how she must have reached the sugar in the top cupboard; she must have climbed up the cabinet front, using the drawer handles as ladder steps.

"What're you doing?" Sara asked in a cheerful voice. "You little monkey."

Katie hung on to the top of the chair with one hand, and stretched one little finger toward the cupboard of food that Sara had shown her earlier.

"Are you hungry?"

Katie just kept pointing silently.

Sara gave her computer one more moment of attention. _Have to go. 'Bye_, she sent to Blake, then exited the message program and closed her laptop.

She stood, and the chair immediately began to tip with the weight of the child on the back. Sara grabbed her just in time, and hefted the girl onto her hip to choose what she wanted from the cupboard.

Katie was pointing at a can in front. Sara turned it around to see that it was sliced carrots. But that wasn't any kind of snack.

"How about spaghetti and meatballs?" she suggested instead, pulling down a different can next to the carrots.

Katie fingered the top of the can, knowing there was food inside but not knowing how to get it out.

Sara put her down and pulled a hand-crank manual can opener from the utensil drawer. It was probably better not to introduce the curious child to the electric can opener with exposed blade sitting on the countertop.

She dumped a glob of canned spaghetti into a plastic bowl and popped it into the microwave. When it dinged, she stirred the lump around with a fork and took a test bite, making sure it wouldn't burn the little girl's tongue.

It was just right, so Sara put it on the table.

Katie climbed up onto the seat of the chair and stood on it to reach the bowl. Bracing one hand against the table, she put the other hand right into the spaghetti.

Sara couldn't help but chuckle. "Feeding time at the zoo, huh?" She brought a thick, folded-up blanket out of the bedroom closet to use as a booster seat in the chair.

She sat Katie down on it and scooted the chair up to the table.

Katie barely noticed the change in level; she was too busy eating the messy spaghetti. Her little fingers were already covered in sauce, so Sara let her finish off the meal with her hands and didn't bother making her use the fork.

She ate the canned spaghetti quickly, and licked her saucy fingers. She submitted to Sara's wet cloth scrubbing the sauce from her face and hands, and then she was lifted down from the chair and her feet set on the floor.

Katie shuffled her little feet back into the living room, bored now that she was rested and fed.

Sara was a little bit bored, too. She sat on the couch to keep an eye on Katie, watching what the child would do now to entertain herself.

Katie walked up to the bookcase and looked up at the shelves. One little hand reached up to grab the highest shelf she could reach, and one foot stepped up onto the base.

_Crap_. Sara jumped up from the couch and pulled her away from the bookcase. The last thing she needed was for Katie to pull it down on herself!

"No climbing," she chided the girl. But what else was there to do? Sara's apartment wasn't exactly kid-friendly.

Sara looked around to see what she could do for the child. But she had no toys to offer, no children's books, nothing that a kid might be interested in.

Except maybe the TV.

Sara sat down on the couch again with the girl on her lap to keep her contained. "Let's watch TV."

She turned on the television with the remote control, and flipped through the channels to find something decent for a child's eyes. The 'family' channel looked promising, so she left it on that.

The kid's elbow was digging into her stomach, so Sara shifted her to a more comfortable position on her lap.

Katie sat a bit stiffly, as if she wasn't familiar with sitting on someone's lap. But after a while she relaxed a little, and her attention was absorbed by the television.

The two sat quietly through one movie, then Sara had to get up for a bathroom break. She coaxed Katie into trying the toilet too, even though she wore the diaper.

Sara wasn't so sure by now that the child even needed diapers anymore. She was small, but at least a few months past her second birthday. And Sara had yet to see a soiled diaper after a day and a half with the girl.

Well, tomorrow evening they'd go shopping for a pretty dress for the restaurant. Maybe they'd look at some real underwear too.

But for now, the diaper was going back on, along with clean pajamas from the suitcase. In fact, everything should come out of the suitcase anyway, since it was a nuisance to have it in the way in her tiny bedroom.

Katie watched in silence as Sara removed all her things from the suitcase, put them into a dresser drawer, and shoved the suitcase under the bed.

"Katie gets to go to daycare tomorrow," Sara told her with a smile. "Because Aunt Sara has to work."

The words didn't mean anything to Katie, because she didn't know what 'daycare' or 'work' was. But Sara thought it was good to speak to her anyway.

"Then afterward," Sara continued. "We'll go shopping. Find a pretty dress for Katie to wear at the restaurant."

She hoped Katie would behave well at the restaurant. For that matter, she hoped Blake would, too. He had a knack for drawing attention to himself and making Sara want to hide in embarrassment at times.

Like the time he teasingly dragged her into an impulsive and clumsy waltz in the middle of a busy sidewalk. Romantic in theory; mortifying in reality.

Sara shook that memory from her mind. She looked at the alarm clock by her bed. Nine-thirty! Where did the time go?

She should go to bed soon; she'd have to get up extra early tomorrow morning to take Katie to Jungle Jo's Daycare and get to work on time.

"Bedtime," she said to Katie, who was still lounging at the foot of her bed. She stripped back the covers and put the pillows side by side at the head.

Katie crawled over to her pillow, but sat there next to it instead of laying her head on it.

Sara changed into her own pajamas, took one more trip to the bathroom, and got into the bed.

Only then did Katie lay down too.

Sara pulled the covers up over both of them. Then she set her alarm clock and turned off the lamp.

So ended her second day with Katie. Overall, it had been a pretty good day.


	4. Chapter 4

Monday morning, Katie was up before Sara was. Sara knew she was up, because somebody's little fingers were touching her face.

Poke, poke at her nose; a trail was drawn across her cheek, then a finger wandered to her ear.

Sara opened her eyes and said "Boo!"

Katie gave a mild squeak and jumped back, tripping over her own feet and landing on her padded bottom. She glared up at Sara with all the indignation she could muster.

Sara chuckled unashamedly, down at the child still sitting on the floor. "Good morning." Then she reached over to disable the alarm clock before it could blare at them both.

Her indignation having quickly dissolved, Katie picked herself up off the floor and climbed back onto the bed.

But Sara got up, hoping to take a quick shower while she had the chance. There was no telling what the child would get into this morning if left on her own long enough.

Sara opened the bathroom cabinet and reached for her toothbrush. She remembered a bit guiltily that she'd forgotten about getting Katie's teeth brushed last night.

Well, she wouldn't forget this morning. She loaded Katie's toothbrush with bubble-gum flavored paste, intending to get that out of the way before she did her own.

But Katie didn't want her teeth brushed. She pinched her lips together and ducked her head away.

"Come on, open up," Sara prodded, holding the toothbrush to her lips. "It won't hurt."

Katie still resisted.

Sara was disappointed. She'd thought they had been making good progress in Katie's trust of her.

What had she called Katie yesterday? A little monkey. Well, monkey-see, monkey-do.

Sara put the toothbrush into Katie's hand. "Hold that." She prepared her own toothbrush and held it up for Katie to see.

"Watch me," she instructed. "See?" She scrubbed the toothbrush back and forth across her front teeth, the paste foaming up. "Now you do it," she said around the foam.

Katie looked at Sara's foamy teeth and the foamy thing she held in her hand. She looked down at her own little hand gripping a similar but non-foamy thing.

Slowly Katie brought her toothbrush up to her own teeth and moved it back and forth in imitation of Sara.

"Good!" Sara said, relieved. Bending over the sink, she finished brushing her own teeth and rinsed her mouth. Then she coerced Katie into letting her take over the little toothbrush to do a more thorough job on the child's teeth.

Sara then sent the girl out of the bathroom so she could take a quick shower. She blow-dried her hair, got dressed, and went in search of the kid.

Katie was in the kitchen, both hands gripping the handle of the refrigerator and trying in vain to pull it open.

"Katie," Sara said sternly, standing right behind her.

Katie's hands jerked away and she looked up at Sara with an innocent expression. "Duce?"

Sara smiled at the request. "You like juice, huh?"

Katie grabbed onto the handle again, looking back at Sara expectantly.

Sara gave her juice in a small glass, diluting it slightly with tap water to make it stretch a little further. She was already running low, thanks to Katie's affinity for it.

She was running low on time, too! She got Katie changed out of pajamas and into play clothes, but there wasn't time to tame her unruly hair or make any breakfast.

Out of sheer convenience, she popped open a baby food jar of processed pears and stuck a spoon in it. "Eat that," she directed, handing the jar to the two-year-old.

Katie took the spoon out of the jar and licked at the fruity sauce on it. Liking the taste of it, she dipped the spoon back into the jar for another dose.

Satisfied that she could handle that, Sara disappeared into the bedroom for her shoes and socks. A few more minutes later — after wrestling with the buckles on Katie's car seat and nearly giving up — Sara finally got her car on the road en route to Jungle Jo's Daycare.

She pushed the speed limit as much as she dared to, thankful that there wasn't much traffic on the road yet.

Arriving at Jungle Jo's, she spent only a minute or two getting Katie settled. She would have liked to stay a little bit longer, but she just couldn't risk being late for work.

"Be a good girl," Sara said before leaving. "Oh, and she likes to climb things," she warned Jo.

But Jo wasn't worried. "She can climb all she wants in the play room," she assured Sara. "She'll be fine."

Sara hoped so. She dashed out the door for another round of almost-speeding to get to work on time.

A quick jog from the parking lot to the front door, power-walking through the corridor, running down a flight of stairs, and she was at her desk with five seconds to spare.

She would definitely have to time that better tomorrow.

All day long, Sara wondered how Katie was doing in the daycare. She almost called twice, but talked herself out of it each time, thinking it might imply that she didn't trust Jo to take care of the child.

Soon, she had her work to distract her, and it worked until she realized she was ten minutes past the end of her shift.

She was late to pick Katie up, and she needed to go shopping tonight, too. There was the dinner date tomorrow night, and Katie needed an appropriate outfit.

Sara didn't have a whole lot of money to spend, so she figured Walmart would be good enough. Besides, Katie's grandparents should be spending the money, not Sara.

She didn't break any speed records this time, and arrived at Jungle Jo's Daycare in one piece.

Inside, Sara spotted Katie in the far corner, sitting at a child-sized table with crayon in hand. Someone had brushed her hair, and separated it into two adorable pigtails.

"Katie, Aunt Sara's here," Jo called to the child.

Katie's head popped up and turned to look. Crayons immediately forgotten, she jumped from her chair and ran to the safety of her aunt, gripping a handful of Sara's pant leg in her fist and leaning against her leg.

"How'd she do today?" Sara asked, picking up the girl.

Jo told her the truth. "Well, the second you left this morning, she just burst into tears."

Sara looked sideways at the child in her arms. She wasn't crying now, but her tiny arms had found their way around Sara's neck and seemed to be hanging on for dear life.

"Why didn't you call me?" Sara questioned, giving Katie a comforting pat on the back.

"And bother you at work, with something you probably couldn't fix anyway?" Jo dismissed the idea, being very used to dealing with upset children herself. "Besides, it didn't last long. Ashley had her scribbling away in a coloring book pretty soon after, and she was fine the rest of the day."

"Did she play with anyone?" As far as Sara knew, Katie wasn't used to being around other children. She wondered if the girl would seek out a playmate if one was available.

"We tried to include her in the group activities, but for the most part she seemed to prefer solitude. And very quiet solitude, at that."

Sara couldn't say she was surprised. "What do I owe you?" she wanted to know, intending to pay for the daycare.

But Jo waved it off. "Don't worry about it."

Sara scoffed. "What, you work for free now?"

Jo only grinned. "I'll call it a tax write-off. Besides, I charge the other parents more than enough to make up for it."

Sara couldn't help but chuckle too. She imagined it got pretty expensive for parents, paying ongoing daycare for their special-needs children.

Jo sobered, completely serious as she added, "Sara…don't let the first day be the last one. I think Katie _needs_ to be here, whether I'm paid or not. She'll get used to the routine of coming here every day."

Sara had to know something. "Did she speak at all today? Even just a word or two?"

Jo nodded. "She spoke a few words here and there, but not nearly as many as she should have, given her age. Judging by what you told me, and what I've seen myself, I would say her social interaction has been severely stunted, and it's affected her speech patterns."

"But she's not mentally disabled," Sara felt the need to clarify.

Jo shook her head. "No, she's very bright, and a bit independent." She paused, and gently rubbed Katie's back. "I'm not a psychologist," she added. "But I'd say she's bonding with you already. Give her time and attention, and she'll develop the social skills she needs too. And we can help."

Sara was silent, unsure if she should put Katie through another session of tears if that was how she'd start off tomorrow too.

But the only alternative was to give her back to her grandparents. Sara certainly couldn't take her to work every day!

Jo persisted, having Katie's best interest at heart. "Bring her back tomorrow?"

Sara nodded. What other choice did she have? "Thank you," she offered sincerely. But she had no intention of taking complete advantage of Jo's kindness — she'd bring up the subject of payment again tomorrow.

With the child in her arms, Sara trekked back to her car and opened the back door. She deposited Katie in the child car seat and gently extricated the arms from around her neck.

She fastened the three-part buckle, her gaze lingering thoughtfully on the little girl's face before she shut the door.

On the drive to Walmart, Sara kept glancing in the rear-view mirror, studying the child in the back seat who gazed steadily out the window.

She felt sorry for the little girl, always off in her own little world and isolated from her peers. It was no wonder her social development was stunted, with what little attention she ever got from her grandparents.

Right then, Sara determined to herself that she would try to make up for what Katie had lost so far. She would stimulate her speech and learning at every opportunity.

Maybe she could even counteract the loner tendencies Katie was already exhibiting, if she could get the girl exposed to more constant social interaction.


	5. Chapter 5

Sara lifted Katie into the toddler-seat portion of the shopping cart.

Heading to the back of the store, she thought about some possible ways to spark Katie's interest in learning things and interacting a little more with things around her.

Books?

Sara had loved books when she herself was a kid, but she didn't have any now that would be appropriate for a child.

Picture books were what Katie needed. And coloring books, like the daycare had.

She found a cheap coloring book filled with shapes of plants and animals. A little pack of crayons joined it in the cart.

Moving down the aisle, she picked up a box of wooden alphabet blocks. Those would be a great teaching tool as well as entertaining toy.

But not for that high price they had on it. Sara put it back on the shelf.

Aha, here were some picture books that didn't look too silly or babyish. And they were affordable too.

Satisfied with her choices, Sara changed course to the aisle of fruit juices. Two jugs of their cheapest apple juice went into the cart.

Katie tried to twist around in the cart to see where things were being put, and Sara impulsively gave the girl's exposed side a playful little poke.

She was hoping to get a giggle or something out of the child but was met with silence. Well, maybe another time.

Sara shrugged it off, turning the cart around the corner. She could swear she was forgetting something….

Oh, yeah. Katie's dress for tomorrow night.

That darn restaurant. If it was any other place, Katie could wear her best play-clothes without standing out too badly.

Somewhat repulsed by the frilly frocks, Sara was drawn toward the simpler but classier outfits.

A quick peek at the label in the back of Katie's shirt provided Sara with the necessary size, and soon she was torn between a crisp blue sundress with a matching sweater, and a layered green gown with satin ribbons.

The child would look darling in either one, and they weren't expensive, so Sara dropped them both into the cart.

Her stomach rumbled suddenly, reminding her to get done with shopping and go home for dinner.

* * *

Tuesday morning went somewhat better than Monday, with Sara getting out the door on time and Katie getting somewhat of an actual breakfast beforehand.

It was just a few spoonfuls of cottage cheese, but it was better than nothing and provided both protein and dairy nutrients for the child.

Katie still kept to herself at the daycare, but Jo said she didn't cry as much that time, when Sara left her behind. That was improvement, at least.

"I feel like I'm stealing, by not paying you for this," Sara insisted when she came to pick up Katie at the end of the day. "Please, let me reimburse you with _something_."

Jo smiled, seeing that Sara wasn't going to give it up. "Alright, how about this…you drop her off with a gallon of fruit juice every day, and we'll call it even."

Sara grinned in understanding, looking down at the child whose hand was gripped in hers. "This girl does love her juice."

"Yes, she does," Jo agreed. "A little too much for her own good, in fact."

Sara kinked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm sure you know that most fruit juices are loaded with sugar, which isn't good for her body or her teeth. I'd recommend diluting it with water to cut down on how much sugar she's getting."

"I was doing that anyway just to make it last longer," Sara told her. "She's consumed nearly a whole jug of it in just two days."

Jo nodded. "I believe it."

"Alright, well…come on, kiddo." Sara gave a gentle squeeze to the little hand in hers and headed for the door. "Thanks again, Jo," she added over her shoulder. "We'll be back tomorrow…with some juice."

"Duce?" Katie echoed hopefully. It seemed to be the highlight of her day.

Sara smiled down at her. "That's right…juice."

"Duce," Katie repeated firmly to herself, making Sara chuckle.

* * *

Dressed for semi-fine dining, Sara and Katie met Blake at the restaurant.

He'd ordered breadsticks while waiting for them, and now he picked up one in each hand. "Hey, Katie — check it out." He moved the breadsticks around in a silly little dance on the table.

Sara appreciated that Blake acknowledged the child's presence, but it didn't take much to see through his friendly act. It wasn't that he really wanted to entertain Katie…he just had a new audience, and that was good enough for him.

But it wasn't good enough for Katie. She didn't even crack a smile.

"Tough crowd," Blake quipped, dropping the breadsticks back into the basket.

"She's had a long day." Sara answered, not one bit surprised that Katie wasn't charmed by Blake. "She's tired." Sara was tired too, and tried to keep her voice from betraying it.

Tired of waiting so long to eat, Blake flagged down a member of the waitstaff.

He knew better than to order for Sara — she'd trained him pretty quickly in that respect—and he rattled off his own selection to the waiter. "Steak, medium-rare. Onions on the side. And a cocktail."

Onions…great. He'd probably kiss her with onion breath later. Well if that was the case, Sara wasn't going to skimp on garlic on his behalf.

"Garlic chicken," she ordered for herself. "Side of pasta, alfredo sauce, and steamed broccoli. And a smaller plate of the same for Katie, minus the garlic."

"And to drink?" the waiter queried through his plastered-on smile.

"Orange juice for Katie, water for me."

The waiter bowed, collected the menus, and left with their order.

"Garlic breath, that's sexy," Blake commented with a half-smile.

"So is onion breath," Sara pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him.

Blake shrugged a shoulder. "Sorry. So…how's it going at the county coroner's office?

Did he really want to know? Sara doubted it. But since he asked, she'd tell.

"Well, all gory details aside, it's pretty great," she said. "My boss isn't the least bit friendly, but the work's interesting."

"Are you a Level-Two C.I. yet?" Blake asked with a tiny hint of amusement in his tone.

"C._S_.I," Sara corrected him mildly. "And of course not — I just made Level One not too long ago, remember?"

"Yeah, but you're the smart one there," Blake countered with a compliment in his typical butter-smooth style.

"Even the smart ones have to work for their title." Sara took a sip of her ice water, briefly glancing in Katie's direction to make sure the child was still all right.

Katie was fine, if a little bored. But she was behaving especially well, playing silently with the little cloth toy horse Sara had stashed in her purse.

Sara turned her attention back to Blake and the questions away from herself. "How's _your_ work going?"

"Day at the beach."

She didn't doubt the honesty of that statement. Although he and his sister Jo were both 'trust-fund babies', they had absolutely nothing in common beyond that fact.

Whereas Jo used her inheritance to establish a worthwhile daycare business, Blake tended to lean toward a much more self-serving existence.

He had his own office at his father's company, but didn't seem to spend much time there doing actual work. He preferred a more leisurely 'career'…and so far had gotten away with it.

"Surfing or sailing?" Sara now asked lightly.

The underlying sarcasm was lost on him. "Selling stocks, actually," he answered with a straight face. Then he cracked a grin and added, "Surfing came later."

Sara gave him an obligatory smile, feeling it in her lips but not in her heart. She'd been noticing more and more lately how shallow Blake really was.

He was handsome and funny, she'd give him that. He wasn't lacking in brains, either.

But when it came to personality — or at least the kind of depth that Sara looked for — he was about as deep as the short end of a swimming pool.

She hoped the night would go by fast.


	6. Chapter 6

By Wednesday, Sara and Katie had managed to establish somewhat of a daily routine.

Katie was dropped off at Jo's daycare in the morning, along with one of the two jugs of apple juice Sara had bought the day before.

Sara made it to work on time, and at the end of a very long day she was pleased to hear that Katie hadn't shed a single tear all day at Sara's absence.

Jo was right — the child was easily getting accustomed to going to daycare every day.

And currently spending her fifth evening in a row with Sara, Katie was also quickly adjusting to the friendly environment she was now living in.

Sitting on the living room floor beside Katie, Sara opened a new coloring book and laid it before the child on the coffee table. Six bright crayons joined the book.

"Alright, Katie," Sara began, pointing to the first picture waiting to be colored. "What animal is that?"

But Katie didn't care — she just wanted to introduce her crayons to it.

"That's a pig," Sara answered her own question. "Pigs go 'oink'." She turned the page and tried again. "There's a cow. Cows say 'moo'. Can you 'moo'?"

She was simply ignored.

But not to be discouraged, she turned yet another page. "Snake. Katie, can you say 'snake'?"

The child considered it, softly answering, "Nake."

That was close enough. "Very good," Sara praised.

Katie might be dropping letters and rounding off words, but she was just two years old after all. Her speech would hopefully improve with time and practice.

But for now, she just wanted to color. And Sara — craving rest from her midweek workday — was perfectly willing to leave her to her self-entertainment.

After giving the girl a supper of canned fruit, Sara poked through her refrigerator to find something suitable for her own dinner.

Coming up empty, she was reaching for the phone to order something for delivery when her doorbell rang.

She peeked through the spyhole in the door and opened it with a smile. "Well, that's good timing," she quipped, looking at the take-out containers that her brother held in his hands. "I hadn't even called in my order yet."

Jimmy laughed, allowing her to lighten his load as he stepped inside. "I figured I'd treat you to some decent food and see how Katie's settling in."

And much like she'd done with Sara the other day at Jo's daycare, Katie abandoned her crayons and flung herself against his legs like a human cannonball.

"Whoa — what's this?" He picked her up easily and two tiny arms clamped themselves around his neck.

Obviously, Katie hadn't forgotten her Uncle Jimmy.

Jimmy patted her back a moment before loosening her arms so he could put her down. He followed Sara into the kitchen and helped her set out the containers of food.

Sara glanced at him as she opened one small box. "What's that face you're making?"

"What face? I'm not making any face."

"Jimmy, I'm an investigator who's trained to notice details, and your face is covered with them at the moment."

He sighed, knowing it was pointless to try putting it off any longer. "I'm leaving in the morning."

Her hands stilled over another container, but she recovered quickly and jerked the flap open. "I thought you weren't going until _next_ week."

Jimmy gave one shoulder a casual shrug. "Getting itchy feet. Figured I might as well leave sooner rather than later."

"Have you told Mom yet?" Sara asked a bit cautiously.

He smiled ruefully. "I'll call her after I'm already on the road."

Sara found that she couldn't really blame him for that…because although they both had a somewhat-okay relationship with their mother, the woman still tended to resort to emotional manipulation to make her children bend to her wishes regardless of their own.

Well, Jimmy was making his escape — that was plain to see. And Sara was glad that he'd come to spend his last evening with her and Katie before leaving town.

"Why do I suddenly get the feeling that I'm never going to see you again?"

Jimmy couldn't miss the sadness in her voice, and he squeezed her arm in reassurance. "Don't think like that. I'll come back to visit."

"But it won't be the same," Sara contradicted. "Instead of seeing you once or twice a week, it'll be once or twice a _year_. If even that often."

"Sara…"

"I know — I'm sorry. I'm being totally selfish." It was a quality she hated in their mother and she wasn't proud to be exhibiting it herself.

She replaced it with a note of support. "It's your life — you have every right to live it the way you want. I'm proud of you. I really am."

Jimmy found the sincerity in her voice and his face softened. "Thank you. And I'm proud of you, too. I've always been proud of my little sister."

Sara gave a wan smile, poking her set of chopsticks into a container of orange chicken even though her appetite really wasn't there anymore.

"So…how's Katie?" Jimmy broached a new topic, peering into the living room at the child happily scribbling away in her coloring book. "Looks like she settled in okay."

"She's doing better here than I thought she would," Sara answered honestly. "We both are, actually."

Jimmy smiled, pleased. "See? I knew it would work."

Sara also looked toward Katie. "It's going to be weird all over again when I take her back to Don and Val…it's only been four days but I think I'm used to having her here already."

"I've been taking her to Blake's sister Joanna for daycare while I'm at work," she added, cracking a brief grin. "I pay her with fruit juice."

Jimmy laughed too. "Is that the going rate for childcare? A pint for an hour, a quart for the day?"

"Apparently it is for Katie," Sara replied. "Jo doesn't seem to think of her as a burden at the daycare compared to the other kids, so I guess it works out for everyone."

Well…hopefully you won't have to do that for too very long," Jimmy told her. "I talked to Val last night. Sounds like they may be ready to take her back in a month or two like I thought."

"Yeah? Hmm." But Sara wasn't as eager to give her back as she was four days ago. Since things had actually been going pretty well, it just didn't seem so terrible to have a kid in her house after all.

She just hoped that when she did bring Katie back to her rightful home, the child wouldn't regress back into the quiet shadow of existence that Sara was attempting to pry her out of.

Jimmy polished off his last bite of the dinner he'd brought and pushed his chair back from the table. "Well…I hate to eat and run, but I've gotta finish packing tonight if I'm gonna get a good start tomorrow."

Sara sent her big brother off with one final hug. "Promise that you'll keep in touch?"

"If not by phone, at least by email," he confirmed with a small smile. "Take care of yourself, sis."

"You, too," she answered solemnly, missing him already.

Jimmy bent down eye-level to bid his farewell to the little girl. "Bye, Katie-kat. Be good for Aunt Sara, huh?" And he gave her mop of hair a playful ruffling before straightening upright again.

"Well…see ya." He opened the door and stepped through, turning back to look once more at his sister and their niece — the only two members of his family that he would truly miss.

He pulled the door shut with a soft click, leaving Sara to stare at it for several long seconds.

She reached out to engage the deadbolt, a lump forming in her throat as she returned to the kitchen to clean up the remnants of their dinner.

Sara gathered the empty containers together, her eyes blurring as sudden tears spilled out.

She hated crying, but she couldn't help it. Her best friend — her one ally — was leaving her behind.

She sniffled, dropping the takeout boxes into the trash.

Sinking into her couch back in the living room, she wiped at the tears that dampened her cheeks.

_It's not like he's dying,_ she reminded herself. _He's just moving…far, far away._

Jimmy had a right to enjoy his life in the place he wanted to be. But Sara still felt quite lost at the idea of her protective big brother not being around anymore.

Katie climbed silently onto the couch beside her, surprising Sara with her deliberate seeking of attention.

She may have been too young to understand Sara's heartache at losing someone so close to her, but Katie was no stranger to shedding tears…and the tiny finger that poked at the moisture on the adult's face let Sara know that at least she wasn't alone in her grief.

Feeling just as much in need of comforting as she figured Katie did, Sara pulled the child onto her lap and cuddled both arms around her with a deep sigh.


	7. Chapter 7

Thursday evening found Sara sitting on her couch once more — but this time it was with Blake Lawson rather than Katie Sidle.

_This is much better than that stuffy restaurant_, Sara thought to herself, enjoying the feel of his muscular arm draped across her shoulders as they watched a movie on her TV.

She felt a little guilty for not enjoying their date Tuesday night like she should have.

He did try, after all, to make her feel special and wanted. It wasn't his fault that they had differing tastes in a lot of areas.

Katie also appeared to remember him from the restaurant two nights ago. "Dimmy," she said, leaning on the arm of the couch and pointing at the shoe he had propped up on one knee.

"Huh?" Blake was confused, and looked to Sara for an explanation.

"I think she means 'Jimmy'," Sara told him. "He's got shoes like that, too. You probably remind her of my brother."

It made sense to Sara. As short as Katie was, she regularly had a good view of people's shoes.

Blake quirked an eyebrow at the kid, and then playfully squeezed Sara's shoulder with his hand. "I hope I don't remind _you_ of your brother," he teased.

Sara wrinkled her nose at him. "That's a disturbing thought." In afterthought, she added, "Although you could learn a few things from him."

"Like what? That water puts out fire? I think I learned that in kindergarten."

Sara was put off by his mocking tone. "No…like how to have a career you're proud of."

"I'm proud of my career," Blake answered defensively. "Just because I don't serve the public like you and Jimmy do, doesn't mean I don't like my job."

"I didn't mean anything against selling stocks," Sara clarified. "I meant finding something that's a little more rewarding than just…well, financial profit."

Blake was stone-faced and silent, and Sara was a little sorry she'd brought it up. She hadn't meant to belittle his method of income…she just thought he should have a little drive behind his job.

She let the matter drop, leaning into his side in a silent offer of apology.

Blake accepted it, his arm giving her shoulders a brief affectionate squeeze.

Katie, suddenly deciding she wanted Sara's attention, climbed up over the arm of the couch and used Blake as a stepping stone to her destination.

"Ow — god! What the hell?" Blake sputtered.

"Hey, watch what you say around her," Sara immediately scolded, settling the child down on her lap. "She does repeat a few words, you know."

"Well I'm sorry, but she almost stomped on a very sensitive area, if you get my drift!"

Sara's reply was terse and unsympathetic. "Well, I am sure she didn't mean to."

Blake eyed the little girl a bit doubtfully. "You can never be sure with the munchkins," he replied, his caution having been borne from visiting his sister at her daycare once. And once had been thoroughly enough for him.

He glared at Katie, who looked back at him innocently. Then she ignored him, fingering the pendant on the chain around Sara's neck.

Blake dragged his eyes away from the intrusive child and focused on the movie once again. His arm remained around his girlfriend's shoulders, but somehow he didn't feel like cuddling anymore.

* * *

Friday at noon, Sara was hard at work as usual as she tried to ignore the rumblings of her empty stomach.

_Just a few more minutes_, she told herself. _Finish this report and then go get lunch._

She scribbled her signature at the bottom of the last page and closed the folder just as one of the front-desk receptionists poked her head into Sara's tiny alcove of an office.

"Sara, you have a visitor. He brought food, so I had him wait in the break room."

Food! Her stomach growled again in appreciation. That had to be Blake, and he'd definitely earned himself a big kiss for bringing her a meal.

"Thanks, Caroline." Sara gave the receptionist a smile. She headed for the break room and stepped inside.

"Hiding from clients?" she asked the room's sole occupant with a deadpan tone.

"Possibly," Blake answered, standing up to snag a kiss from her. "Or maybe I just thought we could have lunch together."

That was sweet, Sara thought as she kissed him back. She was glad the break room was otherwise empty, or she would have bristled at any display of affection.

"Alright…I smell the food; where is it?"

Blake grinned. He reached under the table and brought out a bag of Chinese take-out.

In truth, the reason he was here for lunch was because it was his only opportunity to see his girlfriend without having her niece around too. The kid was always clinging to Sara and dividing her attention in half.

But Blake didn't say any of that to Sara, because he knew it would only anger her. He admired her empathy for people, but sometimes it just kind of got in the way.

Sara sat beside him and dug into the bag. She'd just had Chinese take-out two nights ago courtesy of her brother, but she was too hungry right now to complain about the redundancy of it.

She set out paper plates and chopsticks, and Blake opened the different containers.

"So, what's on for tomorrow night?" Blake asked casually, digging into the food. Sara used to go out with him just about every other night before she got saddled with that kid…and even though it had only been one week, he was starting to miss her company already.

"Actually, I was planning to go see Roadkill."

Both of Blake's eyebrows rose and his chopsticks paused halfway to his mouth. "What, like _dead animal_ kind of roadkill?" He couldn't keep the disdain out of his voice.

"It's a band," Sara informed him. "They're playing at a coffee shop tomorrow night."

"Oh," Blake responded, relieved that his girlfriend wasn't planning to go look at actual roadkill. With her job, one never knew.

He poked a bite of noodles into his mouth and talked around it. "Sounds like fun; count me in."

Sara was silent a moment. It disgusted her when people talked with food in their mouths. Plus she hadn't meant to invite him along to her planned outing, and apparently it didn't occur to him that he may not be welcome to everything she wanted to do herself.

Not for the first time, Sara asked herself, _Why am I still dating this guy?_

Truth (her own version of it, anyway) answered her back. _Because nobody else is interested in you._

Sometimes she wondered if that was an excuse, rather than a reason.

"What time am I picking you up?" Blake's voice cut into her thoughts.

Sara looked up at his handsome face, almost feeling ashamed of herself for not appreciating that her boyfriend wanted to spend time with her.

She really should try to be a better girlfriend to him. The problem was that she just wasn't sure she _wanted_ to be his girlfriend anymore.

Why was it so hard for her to make up her mind and stop waffling back and forth like this?

Forcing herself to sound cheerful about the date, she said, "It starts at seven."


	8. Chapter 8

Saturday morning came, and Sara tried to sleep in. But the noises coming from the living room of her apartment were dragging her back to consciousness despite her best efforts to grasp her last vestiges of sleep.

With a deep inhale of breath she rolled over, finding other side of her queen-sized bed empty as expected. Katie had slept there every night for a whole week now, and every morning she woke before Sara did.

A whole week, Sara thought to herself. Seven days had passed since she'd opened her home to a child, and she felt a little sense of personal pride to know that so far they'd both survived the adjustment.

A crash in the apartment jolted her from her musings, and Sara threw the covers off and jumped from the bed to inspect the damage.

She exhaled a sigh at the sight of her favorite houseplant now on the carpeted floor, its pot broken into several pieces by the hardbound books that lay haphazardly on top of it.

Climbing Katie strikes again.

And where was she now?

Sara looked around the room, spotting a small pair of bare feet poking out from under the bottom of the living room drapes.

She pulled the fabric aside and Katie looked up at her with luminous green eyes, her bottom lip trembling as her hands clung to the curtain she hid behind. "B'oke," she said in a tiny voice.

Sara nodded her head in agreement, looking back again at the pile of dirt, foliage and literature on her living room carpet. "Yes, it broke…just like the sugar jar did a week ago."

"Bad."

"_Climbing_ is bad," Sara clarified. "No more. Okay?" She didn't know if Katie would understand that or not, but she had to try.

There was one thing she did seem to understand — that Sara wasn't inclined to give physical discipline to Katie's misbehaving.

A week ago she would have cowered in fear of punishment, but she appeared to have forgotten that tactic already because although she had tried to hide, the only expression on her face now was a plea for forgiveness.

That mixture of innocence and mischief tugged at Sara's heart, and her lips melted into a smile. "Come on, you little monkey. Help me clean it up."

Sara threw the large chunks of ceramic potting into the trash and scooped up handfuls of dirt. The plant might be salvageable, if she could find something else to stow it in and get enough of the dirt back around the roots.

As she picked up as much of the loose soil as she could, she was struck with an idea to keep Katie out of trouble for a while — they could go to the park.

Katie could climb on the big toys and play in the dirt and hopefully tire herself out enough to sedately sit through the brief concert at the coffee shop that evening.

The roar from the vacuum drove the child into hiding again as Sara cleaned up the last of the plant's accident, but her little face reappeared around the corner of one doorway after the noisy machine was shut off.

Sara stacked her loose books in a better place than before, double-checked the safety of her other houseplants, and then took her niece to the nearest park where she couldn't do any further damage.

Katie bypassed the jungle gym (she wasn't big enough for it anyway) and stuck to the sandbox, happily digging around in it for a couple of hours until Sara decided it was time to go back home and wash up for their night out later on.

She bathed Katie first, adding bubbles to the water just for the fun of it, and was surprised at the amount of sand left behind in the tub when the bath water was drained.

She dressed the child in clean clothes and poured her a cup of diluted fruit juice before heading back to the bathroom for her own quick shower.

* * *

At six-thirty that evening, Blake arrived at her apartment's doorstep to escort her to the live performance at the coffee shop.

"So what's the deal with the name 'Roadkill'? I mean, does that imply what their songs sound like?"

Sara gave him a half-grin as she let him in for a minute before they left. "I know, their name is kind of disgusting…but their music is pretty mellow and mostly just instrumental. I think even Katie will enjoy it."

"She's coming too?" Blake questioned abruptly, sounding less than pleased.

Surprised, Sara glanced at Katie then back up at Blake, the smile disappearing from her face. "Of course she's coming too. Why wouldn't she?"

Blake tried to explain. "Well, I mean…she's always with you. Like, _always_."

Sara scoffed. "I'm taking care of her, genius. That doesn't change just because _you_ want to go out and play."

"I didn't mean it as a _bad_ thing," he attempted to backpedal, seeing that Sara wasn't too agreeable all of a sudden.

She crossed her arms in a defensive pose. "Just how _did_ you mean it, then?"

He grasped at words uncomfortably. "I mean…look, even the best parents in the world need a break from their kids sometimes…"

But his argument was quickly having the opposite effect on Sara than he was trying for.

"Come on — just ditch the kid for _one_ little night," he wheedled in a whining voice Sara was really beginning to hate.

"What — you want me to just leave her here all by herself?" Sara flung back at him.

"No! I don't know…get a babysitter." Blake shrugged his shoulders. "Dump her back on her grandparents. I mean, she's not even _yours_ anyway."

Sara could not believe what she was hearing. No, it wouldn't have hurt a thing to leave Katie with someone else for the evening — except now Sara had no intention whatsoever of going anywhere with this jerk in the first place.

"I'll tell you what," she began with a fake smile on her face, her tone starting out neutrally but turning sour at the end of her words. "Katie and I will both stay home. _You_ can go to the show…and maybe while you're there, you can find yourself a _new_ girlfriend who can help you forget about how much of an _ass_ you are!"

Blake sighed, briefly closing his eyes against her rant. He didn't want to break up with her; he just wanted her attention centered on _him_ for a change.

"Alright," he conceded, trying to salvage things. "You want to bring the kid? Fine — let's just go before we miss the band."

"Okay, first of all, her name is 'Katie' — not 'The Kid'," Sara began in a serious tone. "Second…if you can't handle having a child around…maybe _you_ shouldn't come around."

Blake steeled himself against her words and tone and the fierce determination he saw in her eyes. Sara Sidle had always been too stubborn for her own good.

"Maybe I shouldn't," he agreed quietly, thinking that possibly she was just bluffing, and she was waiting for him to call it.

Sara's resolve wavered just a fraction. It was happening — she was actually breaking up with him. Did she really want to go that far?

Blake Lawson was generally a decent guy. A charmer and people-person, he had looks, money, connections. He held doors for ladies, he loved his dog, and he could make a pretty tasty omelet.

He could also be spoiled, arrogant, and irresponsible at times — like he was being at this very moment. And Sara did not need that kind of person in her life…especially not right now.

She inhaled deeply, preparing herself for the two words that were overdue to come out. "Goodbye, Blake."

Okay, not a bluff. Or if it was, it was a very good one.

Blake exhaled loudly. He wasn't convinced that it was truly over. She'd cool off after a few days, and then they'd spend a night making up.

"I'll see you around," he said neutrally, opening the door to step out.

_Don't count on it_, Sara thought to herself, closing the door behind him.

She angrily flipped the deadbolt on the door, then immediately thought better of it. Why should she be missing the show tonight?

She'd planned for it, she'd looked forward to it, and she was going to take Katie and enjoy it like she had originally intended to.

And her jealous _ex-_boyfriend could go choke on tainted blowfish for all she cared.

* * *

She stepped through the coffee shop door with Katie propped on one hip, her eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Blake so she could be sure to avoid him.

But she didn't see him anywhere, so with a small sigh of relief Sara now looked for someplace to sit.

"Sara!" A female voice called from behind her, and Sara turned to see her friend and colleague Bernice Jones at a table also occupied by two men she'd never seen before.

"Sara, come join us," Bernice persisted, waving her over.

Grateful for the company to keep her mind off Blake and their breakup, Sara joined the trio.

"This is Doug," Bernice introduced one of the guys, her body language not so subtle in revealing her attraction to him. "And that's Craig," she added with a nod at the other man. "Guys, this is my friend Sara."

"Hi," Sara offered genially as she took the empty seat between the two guys and facing Bernice. Feeling a bit shy all of a sudden, she took the attention off herself by introducing the child on her lap. "This is my niece, Katie."

Doug and Bernice were too focused on each other to really hear what Sara said, but Craig politely gave a little wave. "Hi, Katie."

"Can you say 'hi'?" Sara softly prompted a response from the child.

But they were met with silence as Katie simply stared wide-eyed at the adults around her.

Sara let it go, and looked at the long line forming at the coffee counter. "I guess I should've ordered something before we sat down."

"I'll get you one," Craig volunteered. "What do you want?"

"Oh, thanks," Sara responded in mild surprise. "Um, how about a double mocha?"

Craig raised a teasing eyebrow. "That's it? No fancy twelve-word description to get me all tongue-tied?"

Sara couldn't help a smile herself. "I could if you really want me to…"

"Nope, too late," Craig replied smoothly. "You'll have to save it for next time." And with a quick grin he was gone in the crowd.

"No Blake tonight?" Bernice asked, finally tearing herself away from Doug for a brief moment.

"Blake who?" Sara answered significantly.

"Ah." Bernice understood immediately. "Good thing Craig is here then, huh?" she added in a suggestive tone.

"Don't even start," Sara warned with a light chuckle, knowing how incorrigible Bernice could be. "I just want to enjoy some music and not even _think_ about guys. No offense," she added for Doug's benefit.

Craig came back with a cup in each hand just as the live music began to play.

"Double mocha," he voiced, setting a hot drink in front of Sara. "And I hope Katie likes chocolate milk, 'cause that's what I got for her."

"Thanks. What do I owe you?" Sara asked, lightly supporting the bottom of the small cup that Katie grasped with both hands.

"Don't worry about it." Craig shrugged it off, sitting again and taking a sip of his own drink. He let a beat of silence pass. "So what do you do?"

Oh god, not that question.

Not that Sara was ashamed of her career choice…it just tended to put people off most of the time.

"I'm a crime scene investigator," she answered simply, pausing to taste her beverage. "It's not glamorous, but I like it."

"Sounds interesting," Craig offered politely. "So are you kind of like the police, or what?"

"It's more science and analysis than law enforcement…but we all work together to solve crimes."

"Right on."

Sara shifted the child on her lap and once more deflected the attention away from herself. "What about you?"

"Me? I'm just a freelance handyman," Craig admitted. "Nothing glamorous either, but it pays the bills."

Sara secretly admired the slight bulge of muscle she could see under the sleeve of his shirt. She had no problem picturing him swinging a hammer, the muscles in his arms tight and firm —

She caught herself mid-thought.

Craig seemed really nice…but Sara had just broken up with her ass of a boyfriend tonight, and she'd told herself earlier that she wasn't interested in the idea of starting anything new already with someone else.

So much for not thinking about guys all night. Now she had two of them on her mind.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks for all the awesome reviews, everyone. I'm trying my best to write this as realistically as I possibly can. It's not always easy, but the feedback makes it better. And I promise we'll see Grissom soon._

* * *

The ringing of her cell phone jolted her awake late Sunday morning, and Sara blindly fumbled for the device near her alarm clock.

Squinting through the haze of sleep, she looked at the caller ID.

She knew it couldn't be Craig from the coffee shop last night…they hadn't exchanged any phone numbers and they'd parted as nothing more than acquaintances.

Besides, he'd revealed having an on-again/off-again relationship with another girl already, and Sara was not at all the love-triangle type.

Seeing the name flashing on her cell phone's screen, she groaned to herself and dropped it unanswered back onto her bedside table.

She crammed her pillow around her ears until the phone stopped ringing. Then she waited for a minute to see if the jerk calling her would leave a voice message.

But her cell phone never chirped to indicate one. Just as well — she probably didn't want to hear it anyway.

Another minute later, she received a text message.

_Sorry about last night. Can we talk?_

Sara ignored that as well, gingerly getting up to use the bathroom and regretting having tried four different beverages filled with sugar and caffeine so late the night before at the coffee shop.

Was it possible to have a coffee hangover?

She shuffled back to the bedroom and perched on the edge of her empty bed, trying to wake up all the way before she went to supervise Katie's morning adventures.

Her phone rang again and she glared at it, thinking that apparently Blake couldn't take the hint that she didn't want to talk to him.

She grabbed the phone, intending to answer it and then promptly hang up — juvenile, but usually effective in repelling unwanted callers.

But it wasn't Blake calling now…it was her mom. Now that, she would answer.

"Hi, mom."

"Well, you sound terrible," her mother's voice offered through the phone without preamble. "Are you hung over?"

Sara chuckled. "Only from coffee." She cleared her throat to dislodge the morning sludge. "What's up?"

"Your brother called me yesterday."

Sara winced. This was not going to be a good conversation…

"Why didn't you tell me he was moving to _Wyoming?"_

Oh, she was _so_ not ready for this! Maybe she could 'accidentally' disconnect the call…?

"Sara?" her mother prompted sternly.

"He barely told _me_ just before he left," she answered a bit defensively. "You know nobody can talk him out of something once he sets his mind to it."

"Still, you could have tried."

"Mom, it's his life to live. He wasn't happy here. Don't you want your children to be happy?"

"Of course I do," her mom responded tersely. "But don't _I_ have a right to be happy too?"

"Mom — _you're_ the one who moved away in the first place," Sara reminded her.

"Yes, for health reasons. And living a few hours away is very different from living a few _states_ away!"

Good lord, that 'End Call' button was looking very tempting.

"Did Jimmy tell you about Uncle Don's heart attack last week?" Sara asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, he did. And he also told me that you took home Darlene's little brat."

Brat? How mean and ugly. She may be a little too curious for her own good, but Katie was only a child.

Sara sighed. "It's just for a while. Until Uncle Don is better and they can take her back."

"Well, you better pray that happens soon, for your own sake. Believe me…kids can cramp your style real fast."

What a nice thing to say to your own daughter, Sara thought with contempt.

Hearing the silence on the other end of the line, Arlena Sidle changed the subject. "So how's Blake doing? You haven't said a word about him."

Sara sighed. She knew this would come up sooner or later, too. She'd been hoping for much, _much_ later. "I broke up with Blake."

"What?!" her mother shrieked into the phone. "Are you _crazy_? Why?!"

"I'd rather not discuss it right now," Sara evaded.

"It's that job you took, isn't it? Honestly, Sara, working at the county coroner's office? That's such a morbid thing for a girl to do — it's not a feminine job at all."

She rolled her eyes. "Next you'll tell me that a woman's only place is in the man's bed."

"Don't get snotty with me, Sara Jane," her mother scolded. "Why did you break up with a catch like Blake Lawson?"

Sara sighed again, running a hand through her wavy hair and clutching briefly at the roots. "Blake was just fine with my choice of career," she began with forced evenness. "What he _couldn't_ handle was the fact that I'm caring for Katie right now. You know how he gets possessive and selfish; I wasn't going to put up with it anymore."

"Ugh, I knew it!" her mother said. "I knew nothing good would come of you taking in the brat."

"She's not a brat, Mother," Sara contradicted in her best defensive voice. "But of course you wouldn't know that, since you've only been around her for about ten minutes of her entire life."

"Well she's totally _ruined_ your chance with Blake," her mother went on as if she hadn't even heard her. "He has _money_, Sara! And god, he's gorgeous!" She huffed into the phone, "Nobody envies the single, poor girl — I hope you realize that!"

_Big freakin' deal_, Sara retorted in her mind. _What is this, Victorian times? And I'm not exactly poor, either._ "You sound like you think Blake Lawson is the only single man on earth," she stated blandly.

"Well, he appeared to be the only one not intimidated by you, Miss Career Woman," her mother snapped back.

Again, Sara wished she hadn't answered the phone at all. "Sorry, mom — I have to go." And she hung up.

She counted to five. On cue, the phone rang again.

Sara let it ring.

Sadly grateful that her mother lived hours away and wasn't able to just drive right over and harass her some more in person, Sara put her anxiety from the conversation out of her mind.

Why did she have to have such dysfunctional people in her life? She couldn't do anything about the ones related to her, but at least she'd managed to get rid of one who wasn't.

Or so she thought.

Monday afternoon brought its own set of complications, begun when Sara was bent over a table of evidence when the cell phone clipped to her belt buzzed.

"Sara Sidle," she answered, her focus still on the details she was scrutinizing.

"Sara, you have a visitor up in Reception."

A visitor? Oh, god…he wouldn't. Would he?

Who was she kidding — of course he would.

And he did.

And Sara was not the least bit happy to see him. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, you won't answer my calls and you don't return my messages…I thought maybe we could talk like civilized people."

Was he for real?

"I have nothing to say to you," Sara answered simply, brushing past him to return to her work. "And you shouldn't even be here."

But Blake caught her around the waist with his arm, preventing her from getting very far. "Come on, babe…we're good together. Seems a waste to just throw it away."

A tiny part of her resolve wavered at his touch. They _had_ been good together…until she realized how selfish he could be when he thought someone else was encroaching on his territory.

Well, Sara Sidle was no man's property.

She inhaled a breath, not wanting to make a scene for her co-workers to watch if she could avoid it. Thankfully nobody was around except for the receptionist who was on the phone at the moment.

Blake took her silence to be cooperation. "Let's go away someplace," he suggested intimately, sliding his other arm around her too. "Just you and me."

And there it was. A thinly veiled attempt to get Katie out of his way again. If he really cared about Sara, he wouldn't even consider Katie to be a rival.

She shoved his arms away. "Blake, we are _done_. Do you understand that? Now I suggest you leave before I decide to involve Security."

Sara felt bad, threatening to call a security guard on him. But what else was she supposed to do to show him how serious she was?

She could have lied and claimed she'd met someone else. Craig's face from the coffee shop flashed briefly through her mind.

But that would have been pointless — she was not dumping Blake for another guy; she was dumping him because of the person he was.

She wasn't afraid of him — he'd never exhibited any signs of physical abuse. But in her line of work she knew that people could hide who they really were until provoked into revealing their true nature.

In any case, her verbal threat worked. Blake backed off, his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. "Fine. You wanna be a bitch? Go ahead. You don't know what you're losing."

"Actually, I do," Sara replied smoothly. "And I'm better off without it."

Blake looked like he wanted to say something else, but thought better of it as he turned and sauntered out the front door like nothing had affected him.

Wow, to be that nonchalant over the breakup of a three-year relationship…

"Sara, are you okay?"

Snapping out of it, she looked at Joyce who was now off the phone and who had obviously witnessed her exchange with Blake. "Yeah…fine. Why?"

"Because your hands are shaking."

Sara poked her fingertips into her pockets to hide her nerves. "Some guys just don't know the meaning of _'we're through'_."

"That's too bad," Joyce answered lightly. "He's kinda cute."

Sara glanced back at the door Blake had exited. "Yeah, he's cute…and that's about it."


	10. Chapter 10

After her confrontation with Blake, the only thing that improved the rest of Sara's day was the approval she and Bernice got to attend Dr. Grissom's _'Crime Scene vs. Fire'_ seminar in a couple of weeks.

Well…half of the seminar, anyway. It was to be a two-day event, and their boss gave them both Thursday, but not Friday.

Better than nothing, Sara thought as she gathered keys and purse from her locker at work and left at the end of the day.

Picking up Katie after work was becoming quite routine already for the both of them, and Sara was pleased to hear that there had been no abandonment tears shed by the child at all that day.

A nice kind-of homemade dinner was eaten (as much 'homemade' as you can get from a frozen lasagna and a bag of salad, that is), and then Sara relaxed on the couch while Katie scribbled away in her coloring book.

Sara had tried to teach her how to stay inside the lines, but the idea was lost on the two-year-old. Once in a while she got carried away and even missed the paper, and Sara's glass coffee table had the colorful waxy streaks to show it.

But if it provided her some enjoyment, who cared about the crayon marks? They were easily removed with glass cleaner, and at least coloring kept Katie from her other habit of climbing on and breaking things.

Sara inhaled a long breath and let it back out. She needed to hear a friendly voice with no hypocrisy or meaningless flirting or hidden agenda attached to it.

Her colleague Bernice was really the closest friend she had, but she was out on a date already with Doug from the coffee shop.

And Blake's polar-opposite sister Jo would be sending the daycare kids home with their parents right about now and settling down for a nice quiet evening by herself.

Sara called her brother.

She hadn't realized how much she missed him already until she heard his voice on the other end of the line, and she fought back tears of exhaustion and emotion as they conversed until quite late that night.

Jimmy was glad to hear that she was done with Blake for good (he never liked the guy either), and pleasantly surprised to know how well Katie was doing with her new environment.

He told Sara about the house he was renting, and how old the fire station was, and how he got called out to a fire just minutes after arriving at the station his first day.

"Are they hazing you yet?" Sara asked lightly, her tone of humor masking her tiredness.

Jimmy laughed. "I think they haven't really gotten the chance yet, with all the work we've been doing. Three fires in two days…and one of them, pretty nasty."

"You be careful," she told him seriously.

"Don't worry about me," he quipped lightly. "I stop, drop and roll."

"Smartass." Sara paused a moment before broaching a new subject. "I talked to Mom the other day. She kinda chewed me out because I didn't tell her you were moving out of state."

"Ugh…sorry."

"It's not your fault," she answered without thinking. "Well, actually it was…but I can't put you in a headlock from here so I guess I'll just have to forgive you that one."

A scoff of amusement came through the phone. "I'm pretty sure it would be _you_ in the headlock…but whatever."

"I could totally kick your ass for leaving, though," Sara reminded her brother.

On the wall to her right, the clock struck a new hour. "Oh, wow…it's eleven already," she voiced into the phone.

Jimmy also looked at his clock. "It's midnight for me. Different time zone, you know."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sara's voice scolded them both. "I wouldn't have kept you on the phone so long."

But Jimmy — unselfish as always — simply dismissed it. "Don't worry about it. You needed to talk, and I was happy to listen. I'll call you back in a few days, okay? Three a.m. good for you?" he quipped.

"Yeah, sure," Sara played along. "Just let me consult my alarm clock for that one."

He smothered a sudden yawn. "Alright, well…goodnight, sis. Love you."

That was just what she needed to hear. She was grateful that he couldn't see her through the phone, because her eyes were tearing up now as she answered, "Love you too, bro. Come back and visit sometime?"

"You betcha."

And she believed he would, because her big brother always kept his promises.

"And cheer up," he added, stalling as long as she needed him to. "The right guy is out there. He'll find you eventually."

Sara gave a chuckle of mirth, as if finding the right guy would solve all her woes. "Yeah, well — if he is, too bad. I think I'm done with dating for a while."

Jimmy laughed too. "Oh, if I had a quarter for every time I said that! Well…goodnight. Again. And I'm hanging up this time."

"Goodnight. And thanks," Sara responded softly, feeling considerably better than before as she now hung up the phone.

She and Katie both needed to get some sleep so they could deal with a new day tomorrow.

Stifling a yawn of her own, Sara suddenly felt too tired to even clean up the mess of crayons scattered across her coffee table.

And where had Katie run off to?

Sara found her in the bedroom, sound-asleep on top of the comforter on her own side of the queen-sized bed.

Having grown tired enough, the child had put herself to bed…apparently not waiting on Sara to do it for her.

Sara quietly stepped around to Katie's feet and untied the little shoes that still encased them. She slipped them off, then carefully lifted the girl just enough to pull the bedcovers out from under her.

There was no point in waking Katie just to change her into pajamas, so Sara pulled the sheet and blankets right up over the kid's playclothes.

Then Sara exchanged her own clothes for her nightgown, set her alarm clock for morning, and slid into her side of the bed where she willingly succumbed to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Almost a whole month passed, and for Sara it felt like a blink of an eye and an eternity all at the same time.

She was getting used to having a kid in her home, and though she'd never been inclined toward children in the past, she was finding herself growing attached to this one.

She'd gone into this arrangement reluctantly, and now she didn't really want to give Katie back.

Sara hadn't seen or heard from her Aunt Val or Uncle Don since taking Katie in. Not that she visited with them much in the first place if she could help it…but Sara thought that at least one little phone call or something to check on Katie wouldn't have been too much trouble…

She supposed she could give them the benefit of the doubt — Don was still recovering from his heart attack and Val was having to focus her attention on taking care of him…

But still, they could at least have _pretended_ that they cared.

Well, whatever. In another month or so Katie would go back home to them and everything would return to normal.

For now…Sara had a much-awaited seminar to attend.

* * *

Dr. Grissom's forensics seminar was going smoothly as usual, and more than once his eye had been caught by that pretty brunette in the third row who seemed to be paying just a little more attention to his presentation than the others.

Through the short distance from stage podium to audience seats, his skill of observation had already mentally catalogued the young woman's eased poise, gap-toothed smile, and chocolate-brown eyes.

She took extensive notes with fluid movements of her pen, occasionally underlining the more important points for emphasis.

With just a brief peek at his notes and a slight adjustment of his wire-framed glasses, Dr. Grissom continued fluently with his presentation until the seminar recessed for a half-hour break.

He casually glanced around the large room, easily locating the brunette as she was steered through the exit doors by another one of the seminar attendees.

A bit disappointed, he gathered his written notes and shifted his thoughts to a possible cup of java at the little coffee stand he'd seen across the street that morning.

He stepped outside into the bright sunshine, the many sounds of San Francisco registering in his ears.

Turning a corner, he fleetingly heard a woman's voice say, "Get me a double mocha when you get there. I think I left my notebook inside the building."

Moments later, he had collided — literally — with the owner of that voice. He smoothly regained his own footing and put a steadying hand on her arm.

While offering profuse apologies for nearly knocking her down, Gil found himself once again gazing into those deep brown eyes from his seminar.

"Are you all right?" she asked in concern.

He gave himself a mental shake back to reality. "I'm fine…you?"

She smiled, revealing that cute little space between her front teeth. "Yeah, I'm good. Apparently a little clumsy..." she trailed off with a self-conscious laugh.

Gil smiled back. "No clumsier than me." Figuring he might regret letting the moment pass, he introduced himself. "I'm Gil Grissom."

"Yeah, I know — I'm in your seminar," she acknowledged, shaking the hand he offered. "Sara Sidle."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Sidle."

"You too," she answered sincerely. "Um, well, I've got to run before our break is over..." She gestured toward the building her notebook was still in.

"Oh, sure," Gil answered, stepping out of her way. "Don't plow anyone else down," he quipped lightly.

Somehow it sounded much better in his head than it did on his tongue and he mentally kicked himself for being so lame.

But Sara just grinned, unoffended. "I'll try not to."

And she jogged away.

* * *

"What took you so long?" Bernice asked when Sara dropped into the café seat across the table from her.

Sara shrugged, setting her notebook on the table. "Just ran into someone," she replied vaguely.

"Did it hurt?" Bernice asked impishly, not knowing that Sara had meant it literally.

"Hah, no." Knowing her friend's tendency to pry, Sara abruptly changed the subject. "Where's my mocha?"

"I drank it — you took forever to get here!"

At Sara's look of disbelief, Bernice laughed. "Relax! It's on its way. They're kinda backed up since everyone in the entire city seems to be in here right now."

Sara glanced out one of the windows, spying Dr. Grissom sitting alone in the sunshine at a picnic table near a much smaller and non-crowded coffee stand across the lawn.

With a paper cup in one hand and a newspaper's crossword puzzle in the other, he looked like he was enjoying his solitude.

Sara's lips quirked upward as she answered Bernice, "Not everyone."

"Oh, guess who I saw the other day?" But she didn't give Sara a chance to even wonder before she spilled it herself. "Your not-so-knight-in-shining-armor."

"Blake? Yuck. Where?"

"On a sidewalk, holding hands with the new you. Actually, I think she could've been a model…although you look a lot classier than she did."

"Well, she's welcome to him," Sara answered without malice. "In other news, it totally sucks that we're going to miss the rest of the seminar tomorrow."

Bernice agreed. "We should've asked for opposite days off, so we could fill each other in on the missed parts."

"We'll definitely do it that way next time." Assuming there would be a next time, anyway.

* * *

Dr. Grissom was a little disappointed. He'd hoped for an excuse to talk with Sara Sidle again after the close of the first day of his seminar, but he got snagged by a few other attendees right away and by the time they were done with their questions, Miss Sidle was nowhere to be seen.

She didn't even show up for the second day.

She probably had a good reason — he didn't want to entertain the thought that his lecture might be boring enough to keep anyone away.

But still, he couldn't help wondering. And then he felt weird about the wondering, because it wasn't like she was anyone special.

He'd just met her in passing, after all. No big deal.

And so when he just happened to spot her in the park early Saturday afternoon, he almost didn't approach her.

But that tiny voice in the back of his brain made him do it anyway.

"Miss Sidle."

She looked up in surprise, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. "Dr. Grissom."

He smiled, pleased that she remembered him. "Is this seat taken?" he gestured to the empty half of the park bench.

"No, go ahead."

"Thank you." He sat.

"So, what brings you to the park today?" Sara asked, making casual conversation as she watched Katie play in the sand box with a few other children.

"Lepidoptera," was Dr. Grissom's answer.

She swung her head around to look at him. "Excuse me?"

He grinned, holding up a small net on a handle. "Butterflies."

"Oh." Somehow she felt foolish for not knowing what 'Lepidoptera' meant. "You chase dragons too?"

She was teasing him. Well, he could play along. "They're a little too big for my specimen boards," he answered smoothly.

"I guess you'd need a bigger net, too," Sara quipped, enjoying their verbal exchange.

"Well, you appear to be hunting neither butterflies nor dragons," Dr. Grissom observed. "So what brings _you_ to the park today?"

Sara pointed to one of the children in the sand box. "My niece."

Those two words always sounded a little strange on her lips, because Katie was actually her second-cousin, the daughter of Sara's first cousin Darlene. But it was easier to just say 'niece', so that was the term Sara always used.

Dr. Grissom studied the child. "She looks like you."

"Yeah, people say that," Sara answered. "I guess I don't really see it."

He shrugged. "Dark hair, pretty eyes…"

She gave him a sideways glance, raising one eyebrow at his unexpected compliment. Was he flirting with her?

Dr. Grissom's face colored a little at her expression and he looked away, softly clearing his throat. "What's your niece's name?" he asked, moving past the awkward moment.

"Katie." She paused, then added, "She's two. She's staying with me for a while."

"You must like kids," he assumed, impressed that she was taking care of one who wasn't hers.

Something about his demeanor seemed genuine, so much so that Sara found herself giving an honest answer to his comment. "Not really…but someone has to take care of her. Just ended up being me."

"You don't sound very confident," Dr. Grissom observed.

Sara gave a dry laugh. "Understatement of the year."

At Dr. Grissom's questioning look, she elaborated. "I'm just never sure what to do with kids, you know? They're too curious about everything; they kind of make me nervous."

His answer was brief, but wise. "Children are like sponges; they absorb everything around them. If you give them love, that's what they'll absorb. If you give them hate…they'll absorb that, too."

Love, that was exactly what Katie needed. She'd had far too much of the hate already.

"And sugar," Dr. Grissom added in afterthought. "They'll absorb plenty of sugar."

Sara chuckled lightly. He sounded like he spoke from personal experience. "Do you have kids, Dr. Grissom?" she queried, keeping her eyes on Katie who was happily digging sand with the other children.

"Please, just call me 'Grissom'," he said pleasantly. "No, I don't have children."

"Niece or nephew?" Sara prodded, if only to keep the conversation going. She was actually enjoying this guy's company. He seemed to be a bit older than her…maybe mid-thirties — mature, but not old. His boyish personality was refreshing, rather than annoying.

He was kind of cute, too... Not that she was looking or anything, she sternly reminded herself silently in her head.

"I was an only child," was Grissom's response.

He seemed to like short answers that didn't reveal much. Sara let the subject drop.

Quiet now hung in the air, but not for very long. The other children left the sandbox and Katie soon abandoned it too, to climb quietly into Sara's lap and stare solemnly at Grissom.

"Where are your shoes?" Sara asked, looking at two small and dirty bare feet.

Katie pointed to the sandbox.

But Sara didn't see any discarded shoes laying in the sand. "Did you bury them?"

A small head proudly nodded up and down.

"Great," Sara gave Grissom a wry look. "Now _I_ get to dig in the sand."

"Can't she get them back out herself?" Grissom questioned logically.

"Of course she can," Sara answered. "It's a matter of _will_ she, not _can_ she."

Grissom's eyes twinkled at Katie. "She won't get them at all, if I get 'em first." With that, he strode over to the sand box mere yards away, knelt, and poked his fingers into the sand.

Sara and Katie watched in interest as he pulled a small piece of footwear from the sand and held it up triumphantly.

"It's mine now," he said in mock seriousness.

Katie scrambled off Sara's lap and ran to rescue her shoe from the strange man. "Mine!" she insisted, grabbing at it.

Grissom teased her, holding the sandal out but keeping a firm grip on it.

Katie pulled, but when the shoe didn't come loose she tried to pry the big fingers off.

Grissom couldn't help but chuckle. "Say 'please'," he prompted.

Katie still stubbornly pulled at it with both hands. Finally she huffed a breath through her nose and spit out, _"P'ease!"_

Grinning, Grissom let go. "Where's the other one?"

Katie pushed at him with the heel of her empty hand, then fished the other shoe out of the sand by his knee. She stalked back to Sara and dropped the sandals onto the park bench.

Sara laughed at Grissom as he followed. "I guess she showed you, huh?"

"I think she doesn't like me," Grissom answered mildly but without offense. He reclaimed his seat.

Sara shrugged a shoulder. "She's that way with everyone at first. She didn't like me, either. Just give it time."

"I'd like to. Give it time, I mean." Suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager talking to a crush, he stumbled over his words. "I mean, I'd like to keep in touch…if you want to."

A bit surprised, Sara nodded. "I'd like that." But she kept a casually professional front, in case he only meant it that way.

She dug around in her purse, coming up with a business card. "Here's my card," she offered to him. "Sorry it's bent…I guess I need to get a little case for them."

Grissom scanned it briefly before opening his wallet and pulling out a crisp, unbent card to hand to Sara. "Here's mine."

"Thanks." Sara looked at his card too, then put it in her purse.

Silence crept up on them once more. "I enjoyed your seminar," Sara heard herself saying, to fill the void. "I tried to get both days off work for it, but the boss wasn't feeling generous enough for that."

"You mean you weren't bored enough with the first day?" Grissom teased, covering the fact that he felt good knowing she'd tried to attend both days of it.

"No, it was really interesting to see how evidence can still be preserved even through a fire."

Tuning out the adults' conversation, Katie picked up Grissom's butterfly net and poked her face into the mesh, flattening it across her cheeks.

Sara quipped, "Looks like you've caught a big ladybug."

But Grissom answered, "No, I think that's a little Katie-bug." And he tweaked her nose through the mesh.

"Bug," Katie repeated, thwacking the net into Grissom's knee.

"_I'm_ not a bug," he contradicted solemnly.

Sara laughed, taking the net from the child's hand before she could destroy it and setting it on the park bench as she stood. "Well…we need to get going…so we'll let you get back to your butterfly hunting."

He was disappointed that she was leaving, but he understood that she couldn't spend all day in the park talking to him.

"Don't forget your shoes," Grissom reminded Katie, pointing a finger at them.

Katie snatched them away but allowed Sara to buckle them back onto her feet.

"Can you say 'goodbye'?" Sara prompted.

But Katie just looked at Grissom, neither friendly nor unfriendly.

"Bye," he said to her, giving a little wave.

Sara gave Grissom an apologetic look, speaking for Katie when she said, "We're still learning how to be polite."

"It's fine," he easily dismissed. His gaze lingered on Sara, and he smiled. "Well, until next time..."

Sara smiled back, thinking that a 'next time' would be very nice. And since they'd exchanged business cards, maybe they could make a 'next time' actually happen.

"Bye," she voiced one last time, before heading to the parking lot with child in tow and disappearing from his sight.


End file.
